


The Game

by Tantaylor



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: M/M, Mild D/s, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor
Summary: Nick and Roger meet again at a very strange place. Roger cannot admit that he is attracted to Nick, because Nick has strange preferences.Nevertheless, he gets involved in a game.It is only a game, isn't it?
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue, no beta.
> 
> Please leave feedback.  
> Thank you

"Well, really! You could have tried a little harder, Rog! Does it have to be a washed-out T-shirt like that?"

"What, Liam? I've got leather trousers on, haven't I? "

" Yes, the same as last time. And the time before that." Liam sighed

" Now you're not seriously asking me to get some fetish stuff just because you're scared to go to this club alone?”

“Roger, please! At least take a shirt that fits better and doesn't have funny things on it!” 

“It says Aston Villa , where is that funny?” His best friend was starting to look really distressed. THAT was funny, kind of.  
“You don't really want to go to an SM club wearing a football shirt, man!”

“That is correct. Because I don't want to go there. You are the one who wants to go there.”

“They will not let us in this time! I had to argue endlessly with the bouncer last time because of your tennis shoes! Please, Roger! I'll take you out to dinner, I'll buy your favourite wine, whatever you want, but please don't leave me hanging! I must see Sir Kenneth again. I have to. My peace of mind depends on it, my sexual fulfilment, my life!”

“And why do I have to come along when you seek your sexual fulfilment with Sir Kenneth? This Sir stuff is really stupid, by the way.”

“You just don't understand! This is a sign of respect that the submissive shows for the dominant. And I ... I am afraid to go alone. I am new, I don't know how to behave. But I know I want to find out, Roger. I know I'm a sub, and I can't be a sub without a Dom. You're my best friend, Rog. Please! No football shirts, no tennis shoes!”

Roger shook his head slightly, but went into his bedroom to change into a plain black, well-fitting shirt.  
Liam really liked this club; he really liked this Kenneth. And Roger had to admit, the man was interesting, although he would certainly not call him Sir, not in a million years. But then again, he didn't have to. After all, he was not a sub.

Honestly, all these people were pretty interesting, in a way. It was brave to get your sexual desires fulfilled, wasn't it? Even if it wasn't his. But to each his own, and Liam was his best friend. He admired him a little for this ability to trust. Letting go. So he would go again. Just like last Saturday and the Saturday before that.  
He grinned to himself. Well, those leather trousers were kind of cool. Reminded him of the old days.  
And he looked damn good in them. He did then and he still did , ha! 

Oh, thinking of the old days…  
He remembered that he had recorded a television show a few weeks ago. A television show in which a band called Duran Duran had performed. He hadn't gotten around to watching it yet. 

Liam was terribly nervous, it wouldn't hurt to have a beer together before they went to the club, and Roger could see what had become of the band he used to be a part of. Back then, in another life. He didn't often have such sentimental fits, but some time ago he happened to hear a song on the radio, and it touched him so much that he had to pull over on the motorway.

Simon was still good, if not better than then. And Nick's keyboards...the man was and remained a genius. And that ballad was really beautiful. Really, really beautiful. Well, he would have played the drums differently. Changed the rhythm a bit. But that was none of his business anymore.  
However, when he happened to read in the TV magazine that Duran was going to play their latest single, the ballad, on the show, he had recorded it.

Liam was sitting on the sofa and had already opened two bottles of beer for them when he returned to the living room.  
“Very attentive. Very sub-ish,” he grinned.

“Har har! Should we watch a film before we leave? Sir Kenneth is never in before ten o'clock.”

“I recorded *Britain tonight*. They're performing there.”

“They?”

“My…the band. Duran Duran. They have a new single out and I kinda like it.” It was still weird to say it. Duran Duran. And again he wanted to say *my band*. After all this time. That was really stupid.  
“Oh, okay.” His friend raised his brows in surprise. As said, he was not very often so sentimental. He didn't like to talk about the past, and one thing he appreciated about Liam was that he never asked about it. 

To Liam, he was simply Roger, his best friend.

They had met years ago in a gay bar, and Liam hadn't known who he was. 

Roger fast-forwarded the video to the moment when his...the band came on stage, then he grabbed his beer, leaning back.  
Simon. Nick. He had no idea who that drummer was. They had changed their drummers a lot and as silly as it may be, it filled him with a certain satisfaction. No one could communicate with John as well as he could, and...wait a minute. Where was John? That guy there was not John! But that could not be! John belonged there.

“This cannot be!” Liam gasped.

“No, right? Maybe John is sick.”

"John"? Who's John? I mean the guy on the keyboards. I know him.”

“What are you talking about?” Roger was shocked. John belonged to Duran. John was Duran!

“He was at the club. Last Saturday, and the Saturday before that. Up in the playrooms, when I was there with Kenneth.”

“Who, John?” He had not listened.

“The keyboard player! His name is Nicholas, isn't it? Man, I tell you, that man can handle a whip! Did you know?”

“What?” Roger had still not understood what his friend was talking about. Where was John? Did something happen to John?

“Man, would you listen to me? Did you know that your bandmate is a dominant gay?”

Roger blinked.  
“Did you just tell me that Nick Rhodes whips men in S&M clubs?”

“If that is the name of the man behind the keyboards, yes. I know him as Sir Nicholas.”

Sir Nicholas, of course.  
Roger would have laughed, but he couldn't. John was gone. Nick was flogging men. The world had gone mad.

He was a little bit drunk. And he wondered why he had come along at all. Liam had disappeared with Kenneth into the upper rooms, the so-called playrooms, almost the minute they came in. He had at least asked Roger to come with him, but Roger didn't feel the slightest need to see Liam being tortured. Or other men. The sounds that came from upstairs to the bar were quite enough.  
Well, at least he had nice company, even though he had almost laughed out loud at the first sight of the man next to him at the bar. Because he was naked. That was, except for the hold-up stockings and the high heels. Honestly, those people were all crazy, right?  
It turned out that Walter was a drummer. And now they had been sitting here for two hours talking shop.  
Roger really needed to be distracted, and Walter helped him, as did the not inconsiderable amount of red wine they had already drunk.

At first he had constantly expected to meet Nick, but now he was convinced that Liam was wrong. Exactly. Liam was wrong and John probably had the flu or something. Everything else was completely unimaginable.  
“Keith Moon is totally overrated, if you ask me,” Walter said as he refilled their glasses.

“Are you crazy? Keith Moon is a fucking god!”

“Naah! What do you think of the other Roger?”

The other Roger. Well. The other Roger had after all managed to stay in the same band for decades. The other Roger had not run away from all the stress. Probably the other Roger hadn't had any depressions, no burnout.

“However, the other Roger is not nearly as good looking as our Roger. So Liam was not lying. I'm slightly surprised to see you here, Rog, to say the least.”  
Indeed. Liam had not lied. The man who had appeared next to him was definitely Nick.  
An interview with a vampire Brad Pitt version of Nick, but Nick.

And it suited Nick even better than Brad.  
Roger was drunk, and the sight of Nick was somehow unreal. God, this whole place was weird. Naked men in high heels, all the leather, the sounds from the upstairs rooms, all that was suddenly too much to bear.

He slipped from the bar chair, bowed gallantly "If you'll excuse me a moment, Sir Nicholas?”

He barely made it to the toilets, where he choked in homage to the God of the toilet bowl, to whom he sacrificed about a quart of red wine.

Someone handed him a wet cloth. It was the vampire Nick.  
It should have been embarrassing, which surprisingly it was not.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. No. Could we go somewhere else?”

“I live not far from here. We can take a taxi.”

“You got any coffee?”

“Lots of it. I can also make an excellent Spanish omelette.”

“Wait, wait! I can't leave. Liam!”

“I think Liam's pretty busy. I ask Walter to let him know.”

“Walter is a drummer. Did you know that? You could hire him; he can't be worse than the guy you've got now. He's way too fast, he'll mess up that beautiful song. And where is Johnny anyway?”

“John now lives in Los Angeles. He is married. He's fine, he's clean. I should be happy for him.”

“But you are not.” Roger stated.

“He left.” Nick shrugged. 

“Then there were only two.” Roger said and this shocking realization made him terribly sad.

He put his arm around Nick's shoulder and pulled him close.  
There they sat, on the cold floor in a toilet stall in an SM club. Could life be any weirder?  
It could, because suddenly a penis dangled in front of them, right at eye level.  
It was a pretty impressive penis, and it belonged to Walter.  
“You guys all right?”

“Everything is fine, Walter, thanks for asking. Would you tell Niles at the bar to call a taxi? And would you tell Liam that Roger left with me?”

“Who's Liam?”

“Sir Kenneth's new boy.”

“Ah, okay. Sure.”

The very short drive to Nick's flat was silent and they did not speak again until Nick had started the coffee machine and they were sitting next to each other on his sofa.

“I have about a million questions, Roger Taylor! Since when are you a gay sub?”

“Oh, I`m not. I was only there because Liam didn't want to go alone.”

“So you're not gay?”

“I am extremely gay, but I am not a sub. I'm just normally gay.”

Nick chuckled.  
“Is there such a thing as normally gay?”

“You know. I just do normal stuff. In any case, I will not be flogged and I will not call anyone sir. I mean, it's okay for people to be into that, but not me.”

“And yet you went to an SM club.”

“I told you, because of Liam. Does your outfit actually come with matching canines?”

“I prefer to use my own teeth.”

“This is extremely interesting, Nick, really. Can we talk about something else?”

“With pleasure! For example, we could talk about where you have been all these years and why you disappeared without a word.”

Roger sighed, then nodded. The past had caught up with him. In the most peculiar place imaginable.  
Maybe it was time to do what his psychiatrist had advised him to do for years.  
“I'm going to need a lot of coffee and I hope you have nothing else planned for tonight.”

“I have nothing planned for the whole of next week. And if you can make it work, I'd like to spend a lot of time with you. Because I missed you, you know? And not just because none of those stick-whirlers come anywhere near you.”

“Stick-whirlers! I like that,” he chuckled.  
They moved the whole thing into the kitchen, where Nick made his announced Spanish omelette.

Roger told him about this big, black hole that had opened up in front of him at some point, namely when this thing with Power Station and Arcadia started, when everything was just strife, envy and jealousy. He described how he had felt. Torn. Unsupported. Alone.  
And at a certain moment he had taken a running jump into this huge black hole. He told it all in a strangely calm, distanced way. As if he was talking about someone else.

"My psychiatrist called it emotional overkill. A long ignored depression, a complete burnout and on top of that a nervous breakdown. I locked myself up at home for a fortnight, crying and drinking. I will never forgive myself that my mother of all people had to find me like this. Well. Anyway, I've checked myself into a psychiatric day clinic. Actually more for my mother than for me. Funnily enough, it came out that part of my problem was my vehemently repressed gayness.”

Nick listened. He didn't interrupt, he didn't ask questions, he just let Roger talk. Made new coffee. And then he took Roger in his arms and held him. Roger allowed it to happen, but was still distant. He had been weak once, he had let himself go once, and it had felt terrible. He would not let that happen again.

"So you have another date with Sir Nicholas," Liam grinned.

"It's not a date, we're going to the Tate. And stop calling him Sir Nicholas.”

“Uh-huh. No date. That's why you've been standing in front of the wardrobe for half an hour, thinking about what to wear.”

“Damn it, Liam, will you get off my back?”

“He doesn't come to the club anymore. Not for two months now. Oh, wait, that's as long as you've been dating!”

“We are not dating. Jesus, Liam, haven't you got anything better to do? Get yourself whipped by Kenneth or something?”

“Ask him, Roger. Ask him why he`s not been at the club. Kenneth and I are going dancing tonight. He's an excellent dancer, you know? Won't you come with us? A double date, so to speak.”

“If I didn't know you liked it, I'd beat your ass, man! Oh, wait, I have a better idea. I'll tell Kenneth you forgot to call him sir.”

“Oh yes, please!” Liam got this glassy look on his face. "His punishments are heaven!"

Roger rolled his eyes and threw the T-shirt he had in his hand to the side. He really needed new clothes. Maybe he should go shopping with Nick.  
Liam chuckled. “Roger makes himself beautiful for a man. I can't believe I'm still alive to see this!”  
Who needed enemies when having such friends?

Nick had suggested after the museum visit to go out for dinner, and so they were now sitting at the table of a really excellent Italian.  
Roger was really glad to have put on a fancy jacket and well-fitting jeans.

“How's your friend Liam doing?” Nick asked.

“He's fine. He's got a huge crush.”

“This is probably based on reciprocity. Kenneth is quite enraptured with him.”

“Are you and Kenneth close?”

“We are. He's my best friend, now that ... are we ordering wine with dinner?”

Now that John was gone. He didn't have to say it, Roger understood.

“Sure, wine. And I would like a grappa to finish. Did you and Kenneth meet in this club?”

“No, at a bondage workshop.”

“This role playing stuff is really important to you, isn't it?”

“I am not a role player. This whole thing is not a game to me, it`s a lifestyle.”

“How can a sexual variety be a lifestyle? It's really just playing around. A kink, whatever.”

“You're not really taking any of this seriously, are you? Even when people just meet to play, Roger, we call it a session or a scene, it's always about very existential things. Trust. Control. Loss of control. It's never just sexual.”

“I do not think loss of control is particularly desirable.”

“It can be very fulfilling when someone guides you, catches you, looks after you. That is what a good Dom does. He helps you lose control and makes sure you enjoy it.”

“By humiliating you, inflicting pain and calling you boy? Or worse, by calling you a slave?”

“By helping you to feel things that you would otherwise not allow. When a feeling becomes too intense, many people tend to back off. Because they think they can't bear it. Even during sex. We don't allow things to happen because we think they are wrong. Dirty, or selfish. When you have sex with someone and you think it's really good, at some point the thought comes up, oh, I can't just enjoy this now, I have to do something too, I have to return the favour. When you are tied up, you can't do that, you don't have to do anything, you can just enjoy. And maybe you don't need to be tied up either. Maybe you just need someone to guide you, someone who makes you stop thinking and just feel. As I said, it can be very fulfilling to hand over the control, if you trust enough.”

“The way you say that makes it sound very exciting.”

“You are terribly afraid of losing control, aren't you? I've rarely met a more closed person like you. You are a very exciting person, Roger. I think there's a lot hidden in you. I'd like to find it. Would you like to play a game? I'm gonna be honest with you, okay? When I saw you sitting there in that club, my sub-radar was going off the charts. And I'm never wrong, Roger. I'm never wrong. And since this is all just a silly game to you anyway, you've got nothing to lose, right?”

“You're crazy, Nick! Honestly? You're really pissing me off right now. Is that why you stopped going to the club? What am I, your new project or something? I'm not a fucking sub.”

“Well, if you say so.” Man, someone was damn sure of himself! That was really stupid. Nobody would turn him into a sub, not even the beautiful, exciting Nick. No way.

“I'll prove it to you! You want to play a game? OK, let's play. What are the rules?” Challenge accepted. Sir Nicholas would not have him on his knees or doing any other bullshit. These SMers were all nuts, for real!

“There is only one. A single simple rule. You give me control. You do what I say, you let me do what I do. For one week, from midnight until midnight next Saturday. Can you go for it?”

“No whips, I`m not calling you Sir and I don`t bottom.”

“You don't tell me what I can and cannot do. Unless you use a safe word. Pick one.”

“Aston Villa.”

Nick chuckled.  
“Aston Villa it is, then. Promise me that you will use this word if necessary. Only if it is really necessary. Promise me to be honest.”

“I am honest if you are. Could it be that you have just manipulated me quite a bit? You knew exactly how I would react, didn't you?”

“That is correct. And you let yourself be manipulated completely.” Nick grinned and raised his glass. “Here's to an exciting week.”

“Liam, that was nasty manipulation, I swear. I mean, one second we're sitting there talking, the next I'm picking a safe word. And you know what he did at midnight? He kissed me, man. And that wasn't just a kiss. That was... I don't know. I heard the angels singing, no shit. And then he smiled and said, Roger, I want you to go to the restroom, take off your undies and give them to me. Can you explain to me what that nonsense was about?”

“Did you do it?”

“Of course I did it. After all, we have an agreement. And it was really no big deal. I just don't understand the point.”

“You obeyed him, that was the point. What happened next?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I gave him my pants, he put them in his pocket, we drank grappa and talked. Just like always. It drove me crazy.”

“And that's exactly what he wanted. Did he kiss you again?”

“No.”

“Would you have wanted him to kiss you again?”

“Yes. He’s a good kisser. Although this is totally weird, Liam. I mean, it's Nick. I've known him since he was 16.”

“Roger, why can't you at least admit that you're totally into him? You see each other all the time. You haven't hooked up with anyone since. You got into this game. You have a crush, Roger.”

“You don't understand, Liam. It's Nick.”

“So? You played together in a band a million years ago. Neither of you admitted to being gay back then. I guess it's different now, isn't it?”

Different. That`s right. Things were VERY different now.  
Still.  
The kiss had not been real after all. They were just playing a game.

“Tell me something, Roger. When you were sitting there at the table without your pants on, and you were talking as you always did, were you hard?”  
Well. This was the embarrassing part. But Roger had found an explanation for that.

"It was purely mechanical.”

“Mechanical?” Liam raised his brows and looked at his friend as if he had a screw loose.

“The rough material, the friction...”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“I'll go make us some tea.” Liam was a fucking pain in the ass. He would not discuss this further with him.

“Leave it, Rog. I gotta get back to work anyway. Are you teaching classes today?”

Roger gave drum lessons at the local school. Usually. But not today, because he had called and cancelled.  
Because, it could be that Nick called, couldn't it? After all, they were playing that game.

But he wouldn't tell Liam that.

"No, not today. I think I'm going to go for a run later.”

Nick didn't call. He was sitting outside Roger's door when he came back from running.  
His heartbeat was only accelerated because of the run, for sure. It had nothing to do with Nick looking great. Or that he was happy to see him. Or even that he wondered how this silly game would continue.

“I brought cherry cake. It's certainly not as good as your mother's, but still.”

That he remembered, wow.  
Roger loved cherry cake.

“Fab! Come in, I`ll take a quick shower.” He would have liked to hug Nick, but he was sweaty, and Nick didn't make any effort to hug him or even kiss him, like yesterday in the restaurant. A pity. It had really been a great kiss.

Roger whistled under the shower and almost had a heart attack when he stepped out of the shower cubicle. Leaning against the basin stood Nick.  
That son of a bitch! He was trying to make him nervous.  
Roger reached for the towel.  
If Nick wanted to stand there, fine, he'd just pretend he wasn't there.  
And who knows, maybe he could turn the tables. Make Nick nervous, because he was proud of his body. He knew he was good looking.

“Someone else not me.” Nick said. “You whistled the tune.”

“It`s a great song.”

“Give me the towel, please.”

“Why?”

“We have a deal, Roger. You do as I say. Now, give me the towel. I'll dry you off.”

Uh. That was…weird.  
Nick took his time, all the time in the world. He was very thorough. Roger closed his eyes and had to admit to himself that he enjoyed it somehow. It was strangely intimate. Loving.  
He giggled a little as Nick dried him between his toes.  
And then...oh God, of course! Of course he was also dried between his legs. Soft terry cloth on his cock, on his balls. Nick spread his ass cheeks and dried his entrance.  
It was impossible not to react, absolutely impossible, although Roger gritted his teeth and held his breath. His cock twitched, damn it, even his hole twitched.  
He instinctively took a step back. Oh no! Oh no! Not gonna happen! I will not get hard, no!  
"Hold still. I'm almost done.”

Fuck! He tried to think of disgusting things, something completely unerotic, yet he remained semi-rigid.  
Ok, better than nothing, huh? He had it under control. He had himself under control.

Nick gave him a pat on the butt.  
"All right, you can get dressed. No shirt, please. I'll go set the table.”

What the hell was all that nonsense about? It was annoying, honestly. Confusing and annoying bullshit.  
Nick was sitting on the couch in the living room with a plate of cake and a cup of tea in front of him.

One plate. One cup. Next to the cup was a black piece of fabric.

No, he would not ask. To ask meant to be interested. He would not fall into this trap, no.  
He would just get his own cup and plate.  
“Stay, Roger. Sit down.”

“Right after I got myself a plate.”

“No, right now. You don't need a plate. I will feed you.”

“Do you have some totally sick baby fetish or something? I'm an adult, I can dry myself and I can eat myself. And what's that next to your cup? A bib maybe? To keep little Roger from getting crumbs or what? “

“Sit down and stop behaving like the toddler you do not want to be. You were already such a terrible stubborn person back then, and that hasn't changed one bit.”

Roger rolled his eyes and plopped next to Nick on the couch.

“All right, I'll explain it to you if you want me to.” Nick sighed.

“Please do. Because this is weird, man.”

“I try to build trust. Closeness. I'll take care of you, Roger. I'm taking care of your needs.”

“I don't think you have any idea of my needs.”

“Man's got to eat, Roger. Food is a need, isn't it? And your fondness for cherry pie has probably changed as little as your stubbornness.”

Oh. Well. These needs.  
He had thought of sexual needs, of course.

And even if Nick didn't say it, he knew it. He knew Roger was thinking about sex, he would have bet his ass on that.  
“All right, feed me if that's what you want.”

“For now, this is what I want, yes. This is not a bib, by the way, you weirdo. It's a blindfold. I could use it to tie your hands, though. It's your choice. Hands or eyes.”

“Eyes. And I swear to you, if you put anything in my mouth other than cherry pie, you will die a very painful death.”

Nick laughed. It was a deep, dirty laugh. Pretty sexy.  
Roger blushed.  
Put things in his mouth. Why did he say that? It sounded ambiguous. Which it shouldn't.

The world became dark behind the blindfold and that was somehow a good thing. It was a hiding place. A hiding place from Nick's beautiful eyes and his knowing smile.

“Open your mouth.”

Oh, hmmm! This cake was delicious. Rich and fruity, not too sweet.

“Good, isn`t it? When I bought it for the first time, a few months ago, I thought of you. About your mother's pie orgies. Are your parents okay?”

“They are. We could go for a visit together; they would certainly be happy to see you again.”

“We do that. Next Sunday?”

“Deal."

Roger did not yet know that his world would have changed significantly next Sunday. That he was already deep into that change.  
It was the tea that made the whole thing tip over.

The tea, which fortunately was not really hot anymore.

So, Nick fed him, between the bites they talked, quite normally. As if Roger was not sitting on his couch blindfolded and bare-chested, opening his mouth like a hungry little bird.  
It was strange, but not as silly as Roger had thought.  
If he was completely honest, it wasn't even a bit silly at all. It created closeness, and yes, trust.  
It was slightly erotic, Roger had to admit. Sensual.

“Would you like some more?”

“No thanks, I'm about to burst. But a sip of tea would be nice.”

Nick held the cup to his lips. A few drops missed his mouth, running down his chin, across his neck.  
And then there was something warm and moist, a tongue licking over his skin, over his Adam's apple.  
Roger moaned softly. It felt good. And they were just playing, right? It was just a game, and he had promised to get into it, and he kept his promises and…oh, God!

Hands. Tender hands that caressed his skin, lips that closed around a stiff nipple. Gentle sucking, a cautious nibble. Roger never let his lovers play with his nipples. They were too sensitive, they tingled, and that had always felt strange. He just didn't know whether he liked it or whether he found it a bit disturbing.

Now and here, under the cover of the darkness of the blindfold, bound by a promise he had made, he let it happen. Let it happen that the gentle touches slowly increased. The careful nibbling turned into little bites; the irritating tingling turned into a hot, lustful throbbing. He felt the little nips getting even harder, how they swelled up. They felt huge. Gigantic. 

And somehow they seemed to be connected to his cock.

Coloured flashes exploded behind his closed eyelids, painfully bright in this absolute darkness.  
A nipple, caught between two fingers, was twisted and turned, was long drawn out, away from his body. It seemed to grow endlessly long, and it should have hurt. Maybe it did. Maybe that's the reason for the flashes. Maybe it was really exploding pain.  
But it was okay. It was a game. He was safe. All he had to do was say the word, and it would stop. He was in control.

“So sensitive. So receptive. You're beautiful, Roger, beautiful.”  
Hot breath on twitching flesh, like a touch so intense, the words balm for his soul.  
Now both nipples were twisted and pulled out as soft lips laid on his own.  
He opened up immediately, immediately and completely. This kiss was perfect, its incredible softness such a contrast to the hot, throbbing pain in his swollen nibs, because yes, damn, it was pain, wonderful, sweet intense pain, and it was horny, so horny...

He screamed, screamed into that tender mouth, was carried away by the enormous force of an absolutely unexpected orgasm that turned him into a twitching, screaming something. He cried. Cried because it was so much, because it had overwhelmed him so much. A lot. So much.

Nick held him, whispering soothing words into his ear, words he did not understand because his brain had turned into a useless heap of jelly. Because he had lost control.

With this insight came panic. Terrible, brutal panic. The darkness behind the blindfold was no longer comforting, it was cold, dangerous like the black hole that had swallowed him so long ago. This is what happened when you lost control.

He had been used, manipulated. None of this was real, it was just an experiment, it was just a game.  
He tore the blindfold off his head and pushed Nick away, helpless, out of his mind in rage and fear.  
“You asshole! You selfish, manipulative asshole! Are you happy now? Did you get what you wanted? Let me tell you something, this is a stupid game. I quit, Aston Villa.”

Nick remained very calm. Annoyingly, provocatively calm. That perverted little bastard! Sir-fucking-Nicholas. That cold, calculating, perverted...

“Roger, I'm going to take you in my arms and hold you. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't jump at me, okay? You're a lot stronger than me. You know that, right?”

“Don't touch me! Don't you ever touch me again. Go away, Nick, find someone else to play your sick little games with.” God. Oh, God. He had come in his pants. The drying liquid was completely unnerving, a sticky, humiliating witness to his loss of control.

“All right. I won't touch you. But at least listen to me, Roger, will you? Yesterday in the restaurant you asked me why I don't go to the club anymore. I'll tell you why. I prefer to be with you. When I saw you there, Roger... I know it sounds stupid because we've known each other for so long, but it was like love at first sight, you know? You're beautiful and strong and funny, you... I just wanted a chance. A chance to get to know you. A chance to show you who I am. And I thought if I challenged you, if I told you it was just a game... I made a mistake, please forgive me. I am a dominant man, Roger, that will not change. But I thought this game could help us both find a way to live that together. I don't need whips, and I don't need to be called sir, but I want the upper hand, the control. It was never just a game to me. I just want you, Roger. But I cannot be someone other than who I am. I wish I could, if it meant I could be with you. You, there in that club... I thought you were a sub. You always had that about you, you know? Well, anyway, I better get going. It was very nice to see you again, Roger Taylor. The man you're gonna trust and love is a lucky man. And I hate him already.”

Roger was shaking, knowing full well that if Nick left his flat now, he would never see him again. And he didn't want that, did he?  
No idea how things would work out between them, but he wanted to be with Nick too.  
Liam had realised this immediately, and he had been too defiant to admit it. 

“Don't leave,” he said quietly and took a tiny step towards Nick. That was all he could do. Because he was afraid. Of his feelings, of this intensity.  
“It was...so huge. And I thought that I made a complete fool of myself. That you would laugh at me, because it is only a game.”

“I told you from the beginning that it`s never only a game.”

“I don't know if I can give you what you need, Nick.”

“I am convinced that you can give me that, all you have to do is allow it. It cannot work if you do not trust me.” Nick took a tiny step towards him, careful not to invade his private space.

“I would like to try.”

“Please, Rog! Please please please! You must be there; you are my best friend!”

A month had passed since the day he and Nick called the cherry pie day.  
The most intense month of his life. He had learned many things about himself. Disturbing things. Wonderful things. Frightening things. And besides Nick, Liam was something of a tour guide on this trip to the land of submission. His confidant, his translator, his listener.

“I just don't want to go to that club anymore, Liam. And I don't want Nick to go there. Because then he might notice that he misses whipping. Or that he likes to be called Sir Nicholas.”

“What's the harm in that? You've found out you like pain, haven't you?”

“A little pain, yes. But nipple play and spanking can hardly be compared to whipping. Besides, I'd rather bite off my tongue than call him Sir Nicholas.”

“Please, Roger! Kenneth wants to celebrate his birthday at the club, and I'm sure he invited Nick as well. And Nick won't go without you. Walter sends his love. He keeps asking for you.”

“Ha! You forgot to call him Sir again! Come on, Liam, you need to take this a bit more seriously, it's not a game.”

“Look who`s talking.”

Roger grinned. He would leave it up to Nick whether they would go to this party or not.  
Because he trusted him.


End file.
